


Ticking Clock

by Ray_the_Ravenous



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic, Fluffy, M/M, Silly, a bit angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24018460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_the_Ravenous/pseuds/Ray_the_Ravenous
Summary: From one of my Headcanons: Arno is afraid of thunders
Relationships: Arno Dorian/Jacob Frye
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	Ticking Clock

The sky outside was dark and deprived of all light, despite being only barely the afternoon. A rumbling storm was raging without giving any sign of subdue any soon. The loud sound of the pouring rain on the windows was deafening and persistent, accompanied by the occasional roaring thunder.

Evie had left about an hour ago to do God knows what, and Jacob was bored out of his mind. Trying to come up with something to occupy himself with, his thoughts suddenly flashed to a certain Frenchman who was currently under his same roof. After having weighed his options, he decided that annoy the living daylights out of Arno sounded like a plan.

Thus began his search around the house.

Sometimes the man would disappear for entire hours, probably just to escape Jacob. Arno was a quite reserved guy and liked to be on his own, not that Jacob particularly cared that is, since the only other person he shared his living space was his sister, and she was rarely fun to hang out with.

He looked around the whole place, but still French-boy was nowhere to be seen. He suddenly remembered the existence of the attic, and that Arno mentioned it a couple of times, on how you could see the whole city from there. Jacob smirked.

He had him in the bag.

He headed to the ladder leading upstairs and started to climb it. Peeking from the floor he saw Arno crouched by the window, clutching his knees and staring intently outside.

Jacob pulled himself up the last few steps of the ladder and got closer to the other man. He was about to make a cheesy joke about him, when he stopped dead in his tracks.

Arno was crying?

He was gripping on his pocket-watch for dear life, and had a terrified expression painted on his face: pupils blown, breathing ragged and red, teary eyes.

If Jacob knew any better that looked an awful lot like a panic attack.

He was silently whispering numbers too, glance flicking from the storm outside the window to the ticking watch in his hands.

He never saw Arno this distraught, and it was starting to worry him.

“You good Frenchie?” he asked, a bit concerned, but no answer came.

“Dorian?”

The man sucked in a sharp breath, still not acknowledging him.

“Arno what’s wrong? Talk to me” he asked again, a whole lot more concerned. Jacob crouched in front of him and searched for the other’s eyes.

What he saw was simple and plain _fear._ However, not the kind he would have expected to find on a grown man features: this was the innocent fear of a child, the one that makes you afraid of the dark, or of the-

Afraid of a _thunderstorm._

What he saw was a young child that is afraid of a thunderstorm.

On first hand he found the thought ridiculous and worthy of mockery, but when he looked back at Arno’s face, he saw him looking directly in his eyes, desperate for help.

Now, he liked to tease people but he wasn’t an heartless monster, the poor guy seemed genuinely afraid.

When Arno tried to speak, he made only a strangled noise, which brought a fresh wave of panic on his face.

“Hey it’s okay, it’s fine. It’s the storm isn’t it?” The other nodded frantically.

“I-it’s the th-thund-ers..” he managed to stutter.

Jacob couldn’t believe the scene in front of him: how could someone be so deathly afraid of a simple thunder? Especially a grown man, no a grown _Assassin._ There obviously was more to the eye that Arno was willing to say.

He tried to calm the shivering man the best way he could.

“Breath with me Arno, in and out. It’s okay. You’re okay”.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

After a while, he had managed to calm the other man down enough to return to a more regular breathing pattern. Once more aware of his surroundings, Arno would not meet his eyes, looking down in what was probably shame and embarrassment. A heavy silence settled over them.

“Would you mind to tell me what has gotten over you?”

Arno did not answer, averting his gaze.

Jacob waited patiently: he had all day; he didn’t care if Arno wanted to play the silence game, and he knew how to crack him.

“I just don’t like thunders, is that so weird?” After a while, he answered with a snapping tone.

“It wouldn’t be if you just didn’t like them. You are _afraid_ of them, and terribly so. There’s a big difference”.

“So? What exactly is you point?” Again with the snark. God this guy was driving him insane.

“Care to elaborate on what just happened?” he said, summoning all of his patience.

“Ok then, I’m _afraid_ of them, always have been. Happy?” Arno spat, and turned his head towards the window again, staring outside.

The thunderstorm had stopped by then; only the heavy rain remained, pouring over the city.

Jacob was not satisfied _at all_ with that answer, but he let it be for the time being.

A few minutes of silence passed, both of them gazing outside of the window, watching hurried people seeking shelter in the nearest bar, or fighting to open an umbrella in the merciless wind.

“I-.. It-…” Arno tried to speak, words clearly failing him. He sighed heavily and looked down at his watch once more.

“My father taught me a way to overcome it. He used to tell me ‘ _count between lighting and thunder, the more it goes between the two the farthest away the storm will go’._ And when the rain came, we would count together with this-his watch. When it went away, he would say _‘see? They didn’t hurt you did they?’_ But then… all I had left was his watch and it became harder every time…” Arno finished, sniffing slightly.

Jacob looked at him with heart full of sympathy. The poor man had to go through hell and back on his own, but he never realized how badly it had affected him.

“So that’s why the counting” He said in a low voice.

“Yeah, now you know…I guess” Arno said clearly embarrassed.

Silence strained again.

“If you want we can count together” the words left his mouth without even processing through his brain. He mentally slapped himself. _Idiot._

Jacob felt blood rushing to his cheeks, while Arno stared at him in disbelief with a gaping mouth.

“Only if you want, of course- man, this is stupid…” he started rambling.

While Jacob was burying himself in stumbling words, Arno smiled faintly and looked at him with a relieved expression.

“I-I’d like that” he stammered slightly. It was his turn to blush now, trying to hold his gaze, eyes flickering back and forth from his lap and Jacob’s hazel eyes.

“Okay, Okay, so um… Tea?” he breathed out.

“Sure, lead the way”.

**Author's Note:**

> Terrible I know, but I has so much fun writing this :D


End file.
